Page 55 of Catch Me
He pushes his cell phone in front of me. “It’s a podcast and YouTube channel I used to watch a couple of years ago. Dennis James is the host. I stopped watching, but there’s an episode from two years ago that went semi-viral and …” He trails off.
“Here. Watch it.”
He turns the volume down but then hits play on the video. The host is one of those loudmouth, know-it-all types who gives advice on women and relationships.
“Women swear their degrees matter,” James says, looking directly into the camera. “No real man cares about that bullshit. You got your degree. So what?” he yells, and the two other co-hosts crack up like that was the funniest shit in the world.
“Don’t give a fuck about your degree. Do you know how to roast a chicken?!”
More ridiculous laughter.
“Look, speaking of bitches with degrees, someone sent me this clip from a college graduation last week.”
“Aw shit,” one of the cohosts says while snickering.
“Did you see it?” the main host asks, looking as if he’s trying to hold in his laughter.
“I saw that.”
“Let me play it.” He can barely get the sentence out because he’s cackling like a fucking wild animal.
My body temperature rises as I already sense whatever it is, is going to make me see red.
“Hey, are we ready to get back to the book?” Antoine asks, entering the kitchen. “I’m hungry but also ready to talk about the next chapter. What happened was wild.”
“You three go ahead,” I say, taking Scott’s phone out of his hand. “I need to check something out. I’ll be back in a few.”
I go down the hall to my bedroom while the other three settle back into the living room.
Once the door behind me closes, I press play and a beat later a shaky video of Ivy appears on the screen. She’s standing on a massive stage, wearing a cap and gown. A team of university professors and administrators sit behind her, as she attempts to address the graduating class.
“T-To my f-fellow grad-graduates.” The wobble in her voice is evident from the beginning, and it sends a fissure through my heart.
Ivy pauses and tries to take a sip of water from the glass at the corner of the podium, but her hand’s shaking so much that the glass slips and falls to the ground.
A couple of the administrators behind her encourage her to continue when she tries to pick up the broken glass pieces, but that’s when she goes into more obvious distress.
Powerlessness washes over me because all I can do is watch as she falls apart in front of thousands of people. She startshyperventilating and crying and pushing people who try to aid her away.
Eventually, she calms enough that two professors are able to help her off of the stage, while a different administrator takes over to give his speech.
The clip cuts out, returning back to the YouTuber, and rage overtakes me to the point that I can barely see. All three of them are cracking up laughing, literally falling out of their seats.
My hand tightens around the phone, squeezing it when the main host fucking intimidates Ivy.
“M-M-My f-f-f-fellow g-g-gr-gr-graduates,” he mimics before knocking a bottle of water onto the floor. The screen is awash in laughter at Ivy’s expense.
I’ll fucking kill them.
The words flash across my mind like a blinking neon sign. Rage pulses through my veins at the complete disregard for Ivy’s humanity. The fact they would use her moment of distress as a vehicle for their obvious hatred of women pisses me off.
I’m tempted to throw the phone across the room, but I remember it isn’t my phone. I need to give it back to Scott before I destroy it and owe him a brand new one.
I return to the living room, but I haven’t done a good job of wiping the emotion that continues to strum through me off of my face. Crystal watches me in concern.
Without a word, I hand Scott his phone before retaking my seat on the couch.
“Where are we?” I grunt out, doing my best to keep calm in front of everyone else. I feel Scott’s gaze on me, but I don’t look at him. I might explode on him in anger.
